Another Shade of Red
by Timoshi-kun
Summary: Red, a boy from Pallet Town, sets off on his way around the Kanto Region and encounters many obstacles on his way to become the Pokemon Champion that we all know and love. My attempt at writing a more mature (not adult) adaption of the plotline of Pokemon Red and Blue Versions. R&R would be nice. Rating may change later on.


A while ago, I was playing Pokemon Yellow on my old Gameboy Advance and thought "Why were we given such a juvenile adaption of these games?"

Of course I'm referring to the anime, though I am a fan of the first few seasons, but it went downhill from there. It's still a good show, don't get me wrong, but I felt it was a little childish for older fans of the franchise compared to the manga. So, I got the idea of writing my own adaption of the games, with a few tweaks to the plot line and such, and wrote a bit of the first chapter. Then it just sat on my USB for a while, not really being touched, so I revived it and rewrote some of what I'd already written to fit with the new ideas I have now and this was the result! So, here it is, Pokemon: Another Shade of Red. (Unimaginative title is unimaginative.)

_Warning! The following story will contain Pokemon-Human violence, Mild coarse language and Pokemon/Human death in later chapters. If you are uncomfortable with any of these things, I advise you leave now._

_Timoshi-kun_

I lay on my bed eyeing the SNES in front of my TV, wondering if I should play the console. I decide against it, throwing my legs over the edge, moving into a sitting position. Life in the small town of Pallet is slow and boring, there's a very small population and most of us are less than social, only offering short conversations that sound more like philosophy lessons, not that I reply.

Sighing, I push myself off the bed and make my way to my wardrobe; I'd like to go outside in a little more than just a T-shirt and jeans. I reach for my red jacket, the short white sleeves waving in the slight draught from my open window. With a few gestures the jacket is on my shoulders, resting across comfortably. I look up and see my cap on the top of my wardrobe, a hard spot to reach considering the height of the large cupboard. I lift my leg up to stand on the lowest shelf, sequentially raising my body until my hand is level with the red hat. It takes a few seconds for me to grab it, my hand fumbling around to try and get a grip. Finally I have a firm hold and let out an unintentional "Ah!" in short pseudo-celebration, but my foot gives way and the next thing I know, I've landed back first on the floor.

The impact causes a loud thump, which alerts my mother. She rushes up the stairs, the sound of her steps bouncing around the house. When she reaches my room, she's instantly at my side, helping me up. A sigh of exasperation leaves me, brushing her off in an "I'm fine" manner.

"Are you sure?" She asks, her pale face looking concerned. She's always been really protective of me, her only son.

"Yeah." I say, standing up. At full height I'm slightly taller than my mother, about an inch or so.

"Alright," She replies, moving her hands back to her side and stepping back slightly. "Just be careful, Red." She pushes a strand of her dark blue hair behind her ear. Her hands brush of the apron she constantly wears, I keep saying that it makes her look like a maid, but she insists on wearing it. She pivots on her heel, facing the stairs once again. Just before she places her delicate hand on the hand rail, she lifts her finger, pointing her index finger upward. She turns her head to face me. "You may want to know, Professor Oak was looking for you, said something about an errand he needs you to run." With that, she leaves the room.

I sigh, my hands resting in my pockets. My mother is basically the only person who can get more than a word from me, other than that I'm not very talkative. Some call me antisocial because I don't speak; I drown them out and think they're not worth my time.

I step down the stairs, slipping on my sneakers as I reach the front door. Without a word, I leave, shutting the door softly behind me.

I walk slowly towards Professor Oak's Laboratory; it's not far from my house anyway, so it'll be fine if I dawdle momentarily. When I get to the door, I jump slightly as it opens, almost slamming into my face in the process. On the other side, gripping the doorknob is Blue, a friend who lives next door with his sister. He looks left and right before turning to face me.

"Oh, hey Red." He says in his snobby tone. "Gramps isn't here if that's what you're wondering. And don't bother asking if I know, he didn't say anything to me."

I nod; I guess my errand can wait until the Professor gets back from wherever he is. I make my way back to my house, head down. Something catches my eye, something rustling in the tall grass. I cautiously and quietly step over, trying not to alert whatever Pokémon lurking inside. As I get closer, the rustle continues, more and more frequent, until the patch of grass is shaking like nervous Caterpie. I carefully separate two groups of blades, revealing nothing. I shrug and turn around.

I hear a snarl from behind me, but before I can turn around I'm suddenly thrust to the ground by a weight on my back.

I hear another, louder snarl again before a sharp pain strikes my leg, like fangs piercing the flesh.

I cry out in pain, turning to see my attacker, a large Raticate, gripping onto my calf with its jaws.

"Hey, Raticate!" I hear a voice yell.

"Rati?" The Rat Pokémon replies, baring its teeth to the source.

I look over and see that the voice is Professor Oak, approaching from behind the grass. He holds out a small capsule and clicks it, releasing a small blue Pokémon. "Tackle." He says, evidently commanding the Pokémon as the next thing I see is the Professor's Pokémon attacking the Raticate off of me, the Rat Pokémon growls and scurries away quickly, either defeated or thinking that I'm not worth the trouble.

The blue Pokémon moves up closer, giving me a better view of it. I now see it's a Squirtle, one of the Pokémon Professor Oak gives away to beginner trainers. It feels my forehead, perhaps looking for a fever or something.

"Thanks." I manage to get out through the haze of pain.

Squirtle smiles as Oak kneels down next to it. "Quite a specimen, isn't he? An Officer in Vermillion found this little guy causing havoc in the harbour, she let me take it in for a sort of rehab. So far it's working out well, though I think he needs a proper Trainer to fully straighten him out." He says cheerfully, helping me sit up. He inspects my calf for a second. "It's looks minor, though I'd recommend a bandage and some ointment to stop infection. Come on, I have some in my lab." He lifts me up, helping me walk as we head to his lab.

_Damn_, I think, _Blue's there_.

He holds out the Pokéball, it at Squirtle. "Come on, little guy. In you go." The ball opens, returning Squirtle. "That Squirtle is one of three Pokémon I'll have you and Blue pick from today."

My eyebrows move in a quizzical manner, signalling my confusion to the good Professor.

He stays silent for a moment as we reach the lab, entering quickly so we can fix up my leg. Blue sees us when we enter.

"Gramps, what took you so long?" He asks, irritated at the Professor's lateness. "I've been here nearly an hour!" He crosses his arms, huffing.

"Patience, Blue. You'll find out soon enough, but first, we need to get Red fixed up." Professor Oak lets me down so I can sit on one of the tables. One of the Aides hands him a jar of ointment, while another hands him a roll of bandages. Within minutes, my leg is feeling fine and I can walk unassisted on it again.

Oak stands, proud of his work. "Now to business." He claps and rubs his hands together, gesturing for Blue and I to stand near a table. The Professor places a Pokéball on the table next to two others. That must be Squirtle's ball. "On this table I have three Pokéballs, each containing a rare Pokémon barely findable in Kanto or any adjacent region. I'm giving you two the choice of one of them each." He stands behind the table, running his hand over one of the balls. "This one is Charmander, the Fire Pokémon." He touches the next one. "This is Bulbasaur, a Grass type." He touches the final one, Squirtle. "This is, as Red saw earlier, Squirtle, the Water type." He moves back to us, leaning his hand on the table. "Years ago I chose one of these, travelled around the place catching Pokémon and battling them. Those were simpler ti-"

"Yeah, yeah, I don't give a crap about all this drabble; I just want my Pokémon." Blue butts in rudely, cutting off his Grandfather mid-sentence. "When do we get to choose?"

The Professor looks unamused, I don't blame him, and Blue does get irritating at times, even when we were kids. "I was going to let you choose first, Blue, but in light of that comment, I'll let Red choose first." He gestures at the Pokéballs. "Go on, Red. Choose one."

Blue huffs, thrusting his hand into his pocket. "What a drag." He mutters.

I step up to the table, hand outstretched to pick up one of the Pokémon. But which do I choose? Bulbasaur is a Grass type, so it'll grow faster than the others. But Charmander's a Fire type, one of the most popular types to have. Then Squirtle's ball catches my eye, that little guy was great at fending off that Raticate and the Professor did say that he needed a Trainer to really rehabilitate him. Which one?

"Hurry up!" Blue almost screams at me, obviously wanting to choose as much as I do.

My hand hovers over each ball, my mind still puzzled as to which one to pick. I decide on the middle ball, Squirtle.

Oak grins. "So, you choose Squirtle?"

I nod.

"Then, Squirtle is yours." He confirms. "Incidentally, would you like to give him a nickname?"

"Hmm?" I ask in reply, holding Squirtle's Pokéball.

"Some trainers give their Pokémon nicknames, so they don't get them confused with other people's Pokémon or to form a stronger bond with them."

I look down at the ball in my hand, clicking release button. Squirtle comes out and opens his eyes, turning to face me. He runs up to me and hugs my leg. "Squirt." I simply state, kneeling down to pet Squirt on the head. He rubs up to my hand, letting out a small bubbled cry.

"Alright, from henceforth that Squirtle will be Squirt." The Professor says, subsequently turning to Blue. "Now, Blue, you can choose."

"It's about damn time." Blue mutters, walking to the table and picking up one of the remaining balls. "Bulbasaur." He says, clipping it onto his belt. "And I'm not naming it, that crap's too juvenile for me."

I sigh, returning Squirt to his ball.

"Alright, now that you've chosen your Pokémon, you can go off an explore Kanto, catching other Pokémon and recording their data in your Poké-" Professor Oak stops, turning to his desk to pick up something. "Now where'd I put them?" He kneels down and takes something from under his desk, a box. "Here they are, your Pokédexes. They hold data of every Pokémon discovered so far. Good luck." He hands us one each, a third still left in the box.

Blue looks into the box, puzzled. "Gramps, who's the third one for?"

Oak looks down. "Well, there was supposed to be a third trainer with the same assignment as you two, but it appears they haven't shown up. So, you'll have a head start over them."

"Oh well, sucks for them." Blue teases, shrugging in his usual way. "I'm going to become the Champion anyway, so this Pokédex thing is just a bit on the side. See you Squares later." He walks out the door, probably to head for the nearest Pokémon Gym.

I turn to Oak and nod, leaving also. This should be an interesting experience.

_  
Oh, my dear Red, you have no idea.

There we have it, the first chapter of Another Shade of Red. Let me know what you thought, maybe favourite or follow this story? Constructive criticism is welcomed, but no outright insults, it's just plain rude.  
Just a few things to point out, Red and Blue are around 15-16 to fit in with the mature atmosphere I'm trying to make.  
Feel free to speculate whom the third Pokédex holder might be.

This is Timoshi-kun, signing off until next chapter. ^_^


End file.
